


paralysis, n

by wigglebox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ...again, Canon Compliant, End of the World, First Kiss, I Love You, I mean as canon compliant I can get writing for a season that hasn't happened yet, M/M, Realization, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 12:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19273114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: paralysis, n.: I don’t know which is worse — knowing what i want and not being able to get to it, or not knowing what I want at all.- David Levithana companion to this fic.You do not need to read that to read this.





	paralysis, n

For the first time in a long time, probably in all of Dean’s time, it truly felt like 

End Times. 

Dean didn’t know how they got out of that boneyard -- he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure he was the one who drove back. It was either him or Cas since Sam’s shoulder was busted. 

They went from facing down whatever monstrosities God (ever the bastard) sprung from the ground to sitting in silence in the bunker’s kitchen. Dean did remember the panic they had when they got back, slamming the door behind them and running for the paint, vandalizing the walls and doors with every sigil they could think of apart from Angel warding. It’s not like there were many Angels left to mount an offense anyways. 

The bunker looked ransacked, and the only place without lines, circles, and symbols everywhere was the kitchen. 

Cas sat across the table from Dean, looking just as despondent as Dean felt. Sam leaned against the counter, scrolling furiously through his phone. 

No service, no internet, no cell anything -- everything was cut off. 

The possibility of not outliving this current predicament was very, very high. They were not longer special enough for a cosmic power to play pity on them, there was no one left to rebuild Cas should something happen, and there was no one left to pull Sam and Dean back from another plane of existence should they die. 

There was no one. They were by themselves. 

Dean was terrified. 

At some point, they popped open some alcohol but no one took a single sip. They were off in their own worlds, which was bad because they had to be strategizing right now. 

But Sam mumbled something about trying to rest because there’s no use trying to figure things out on an exhausted brain. He wasn’t really going to rest, because that’s not how Sam operated in times like these but Dean didn’t say anything. 

Dean stayed at the table. Cas stayed at the table. 

That was another thing weighing on Dean’s mind: How many times did you miss your chance before? Are you willing to die, or have him die, again without the conversation they both knew had to happen being resolved?

Dean held off for so long, and he knew that Cas was biding his time as well. It wasn’t a comfortable thing to talk about. Feelings, love, and _love_ , was never anything Dean had a good handle on, and neither did Cas. 

But did it really matter now? The story was over. Everything was going to crumble under their feet. What was the point of holding back now? They’d most likely die together anyway, and their time alive was most likely not going to last long. 

Fuck it. 

Cas sighed and let go of the beer bottle he’d been toying with for the better part of an hour. 

“I don’t sleep but I think we should all try and calm ourselves down, clean up --” Cas looked down at his arm. His coat was discarded somewhere in the entryway, ripped up and bloodied. God let Cas keep whatever little grace he had left, and it wasn’t enough to annihilate the hoard that came for them. The blazer and shirt underneath were also ripped, and Dean saw some scratches and wounds that Cas didn’t heal. 

Dean nodded to Cas’s words, not processing them but acknowledging he said something. His mind was buzzing. 

Cas put the bottle on the counter and passed by Dean on his way out. Dean immediately reached out and grabbed Cas’s arm, not looking at him but needing him to stay. 

“Do you think this is it?” Dean asked, voice hoarse from shouting so much. 

Cas didn’t respond but didn’t try to leave either. He allowed Dean to cling to him, to which Dean was grateful. 

“Do you think this is it?” Dean repeated, finally turning his head up to look at Cas, “Do you think this is something that can be fixed?” 

Cas looked down at him, and his expression finally let the rock drop into Dean’s stomach. Cas was pale, dark circles prominent under his eyes like an Angel was always meant to have them. His face still had traces of someone else’s (or maybe his) blood on it, and he looked like he’d gone a few rounds with Ali. 

“I think this is it.” Cas finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. 

And that did it.

Dean moved before his brain could catch up and top him. Jumping from the bench, he let go of Cas’s arm to instead hold the sides of his head, pressing him against the wall. Dean didn’t have to work hard since Cas went willingly. The pain and crippling fear that was creeping in on them from earlier hit a brick wall as Cas deepened the kiss almost immediately. Everything that had been building year after year was finally getting a small release, pushed out to make room for sheer terror. 

Time slowed, and hands started to wander before Dean finally broke free. Cas didn’t need to breathe, but Dean needed to surface. He didn’t want to -- he surface was fear, terror, and the unknown. Fear of everything, terrified of _everything_ \--

Cas’s hands remained at Dean’s waist, feeling like he was also holding on for dear life. Dean moved his head, still catching his breath, and leaned in by Cas’s ear. 

Time to seal his fate. 

“I love you,” Dean breathed on an exhale, voice low and as soft as he could make it like the words didn’t belong out in the open yet and still had to hide them away. 

Dean felt Cas grip his waist tighter, leaning his head against Dean’s. They crossed that threshold now. The things have started to pour out of the box, and they weren’t going to be shoved back in. Not anymore. 

“I love you too,” the words floated back at Dean as a little lifesaver in a raging sea. He closed his eyes, feeling embarrassing tears of relief threatening to crawl their way out and it was already such a _day_ he didn’t need to make it worse. 

Dean finally stepped back after a few more moments, making sure he could keep his face neutral. Cas kept his hands on him still, lightly but firm enough, so Dean couldn’t retreat far. 

“Let’s say this again when we’re not as scared,” Cas said, face brighter but still, some sadness hid in the corners of his eyes. 

Dean nodded. Seemed fair. This was compulsive but there was that mutual understanding that even with the circumstances, their desire and love were still not degraded. 

“Can you still stay with me tonight?” Dean asked, holding his breath on an inhale. He didn’t want to stay alone. Sam may want that, but Dean couldn’t face a silent room knowing the horrors that were raging outside their secluded, warded island of peace. 

“Of course,” Cas nodded, finally letting Dean go, “I’ll stay with you any night you need me.”

Dean shook his head. 

“I don’t need you to, I want you to. I want you to stay. Please stay this time, don’t go off and try to do anything without us -- without me,” Dean took a shaky inhale, “We’re in the shit now, and I can’t do this without you again.”

Cas didn’t say anything, but nodded his head, keeping his eyes on Dean. He wasn’t going to go anywhere. They’ll figure each other out, and in the meantime -- 

They’ll try to save the world. Again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but the Season 14 finale gave me very scared vibes like, how the /hell/ are they supposed to figure this shit out. 
> 
> Anyways. 
> 
> We're still so far away from season 15 this summer is going to be so so so so long. 
> 
> tumblr: wigglebox  
> twitter: thatsongbyabba


End file.
